


Nine-tails

by DeeNuke



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime), yoi - Fandom, yuri on ice
Genre: AU, Kitsune, M/M, Viktor Kitsune, Yoi - Freeform, Yuri on ICE Kitsune AU, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, Yuri on Ice AU, kitsune!Viktor, viktor!kitsune, yoi au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:56:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9570560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNuke/pseuds/DeeNuke
Summary: A nine-tailed Kitsune is waiting for the moments of its ascending, but discovers they're trapped on Earth even after growing their ninth tail.





	1. Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of 'taetaes' (on Twitter) kitsune!Viktor 'Yuri on ICE' AU arts.

_"Of old time the Sky and the Earth were not yet set apart the one from the other nor were the female and male principles separated. All was a mass, formless and egg-shaped, the extent whereof is not known, which held the life principle. Thereafter the purer tenuous essence, ascending gradually, formed the Sky; the heavier portion sank and became the Earth. The lighter element merged readily, but the heavier was united with difficulty. Thus the Sky was formed first and the Earth next, and later Kami were produced in the space between them."_ – The Creation Myth

He had been told he had the eyes of a god, shimmering blue like the Sky. And he had been told that he had the face of a divine being, fair and beautiful, and no words would do him justice. He remembered those words, but they mattered little. They always mattered little. He felt like the wrong people were speaking them to him. He could almost remember that one time, years ago, there had been someone who had spoken those words to him and he couldn’t get enough of them. Or was that just wishful thinking? A fantasy he had had and clung to in his loneliness for so long that now it felt like a memory? If there had been such a memory, it was now gone, but there wasn’t one. There was only an emotion, a bitter feeling of emptiness of something missing. So when others would utter those pretty words to him, he could not be flattered or impressed by them even if he tried, and in time he had stopped caring entirely. He was a god, after all, a messenger, so why did people even bother to try and flatter him with such nonsense.

‘Bright and blue and shimmering with age and knowledge’, they would say and he would bitterly smile and add ‘anger and hate and loneliness’, but he had never spoken those words out loud. Humans could never see the bitterness, the loathing he was feeling for them. And they could never see his loneliness and despair either. They had feigned knowing it, they shrouded that incapacity of seeing with such sweets words that he had almost believed them at times. But it had all been a lie. Each time he realised this, the crushing feeling that he was missing something came back even stronger, and each time it happened, he felt like his heart was being ripped out off his chest and set ablaze. Men and women had tried to seduce and love him, hoping he would return their feelings, but his heart remained cold, cold as his hands that he now clasped together in his lap.

'Young', the word came to his mind and he snorted feeling somehow disgusted by it. He was definitely not young. He had almost forgotten his age. Centuries had passed, and only the number of his fox tails told him his age; there were nine now, so he had been alive for more than 900 years. They said that when a Kitsune had gained its ninth tail, its fur turned white or gold. With that thought in mind, he looked down at himself again as though he was waiting to see the soft ethereal fur on the back of his long-fingered hands changing colour. For a second his eyes grew bigger in expectation, but just as always, there was no change. Nothing had happened when the ninth tail had grown. He had waited, a day, two, a week, and then a month and the months turned into years and he was still there, still trapped on Earth, his fur unchanged, the promised departure and power nowhere in sight.

His hopes had been dashed the day his transformation had not happened. He could not return home, a home he did not even remember, but one that promised peace. Were the myths then lies, too? Just fabricated truths of the human mind and not the memories of his own kind? They could not be. As Kitsune, one of the Kami, a fox spirit, he possessed the memories of those who had ascended before him, and the memories did not lie. He turned his head and looked around him and his long, silvery-grey hair moved with him, coiling around his shoulders for a moment before flowing freely down his back, making the silk kimono move and swish softly. The sound was as gentle as the breeze that was making the grass blades bend, the tree branches shudder, and the water ripple.

He softly sniffed and pondered, troubled and now aching, too. The myths also said that a fox spirit would gain the abilities to see and hear anything happening anywhere in the world, but that had not happened for him either. There was something about knowing everything there was to know on Earth and in the Heavens, but he was just as bitter and confused as he had been centuries ago. When had this bitterness even started? Had it happened so long ago that he couldn’t even remember? He didn't want that knowledge anyway, he had seen enough of humans and their ugly and cruel ways, he didn't need or want to understand them. All he wanted was to leave. His ninth tail should have granted him passage, the golden colour that would turn him into a heavenly fox, and then he could finally ascend to the Sky.

He tilted his head back slowly as though he was tired and cast his eyes upwards towards the spotless blue of the sky. "Home," he whispered ever so softly and the trees around him quivered, a sudden breeze making the nature react to his own bitterness and loneliness. He could feel the ache in his chest now, a small sting at first, and then the flood washed over him with such force that he dipped his head and winced in pain, shoulders tensed and body aching. It was getting worse; each passing day was making that sickening, longing feeling grow, and it hurt him more and more. Sometimes the pain was so intense, so real, that it would drain him, sending him into a forced and dreamless slumber for days and when he woke up he would feel even more lonely and lost.

Another breeze blew, but this time it was colder, stronger. He shuddered, and the forest around him trembled with him, somehow the two linked together. He looked up towards the sky and frowned, his hair whipping the air with the next gust of wind. He silently grunted and looked around him, the forest now turning angrier, the water of the river becoming murkier, the critters hiding and the birds stopping their chirping. "No," he whispered with a pang of fear in his voice. “Not again,” he winced, not wanting the sunlight gone. He looked towards the sky once more, desperately wanting the dark clouds that were now gathering over his head to disappear, but they were just rolling in like the fog that sometimes streamed in from the sea. He silently begged again as though there was an invisible force that would hear him and stop all of that from happening. But no one answered him and the bitterness coiled and twisted inside his stomach, and the sky darkened and darkened until a distant thunder shook the sky.

One drop, two drops, a third one, more followed and the rain started to fall, cold and unkind. He remained there, unmoved, feeling angry and defeated at the same time, listening to the sky tearing open. He couldn't move, his blue, clear eyes now as grey and pale as the sky that was pouring its rain down. He could feel his garments sticking to his skin, the silks and linens drenched, his long hair dripping, small rivulets flowing down his pale cheeks, masking the tears in his eyes. With a heavy sigh, head down, he stood up slowly, gathering the kimono to him, wrapping it around him a little, then making his way out of the clearing and between the forest trees. He briefly stopped, looking back over his shoulder at the place he had just left, and that longing feeling washed over him again.

It had been like that for a while now, every time he was feeling sad and bitter, the sky went dark and the rain would start. At first, the rain had been dismissed by the village as moody weather, but then the rain kept coming and the seasons and air changed, always unkind, and in the end, they understood. They started fearing their gods again, and even despising them. They had seen the clouds gathering. It always began in that clearing in the forest, near the Kitsune shrine, and from there, the clouds would spread across the field and the village. He had almost been forgotten once, but with the change of weather, he suddenly became real again. He could sometimes hear the whispers, “The fox is angry,” they would say. He had stopped bargaining with the gods, limiting himself by sending unending rain to drown their crops and sicken the air, thus the winters were snowless and the summers too cold. The crops were suffering and with them, everyone else, too.

Stepping through the wet grass, listening to the raindrops hitting the leaves of the trees above his head, he remained silent. He hated humans, but it was not really their fault that he was in this situation, so maybe he should stop weeping like a lost child and... and… but he could think of nothing. He sighed deeply. And what? Move on with his life? What life? The life of a spirit trapped in a place he no longer recognised as a shelter? Venturing farther than the village bounds would weaken him and he would just... disappear. The villagers' fear was why he was still alive. He had tried to leave once, but it turned out to be the worst decision he had ever made. He had been in so much pain that he had barely managed to crawl back into the safety of the forest, hiding under the roots of the big tree, promising to never come out again.

He stopped in front of an old tree, with its thick trunk, the bark on its thick trunk so dry and dark it almost looked scorched. There was a thick, laid rice straw and hemp rope wrapped around it, the Enclosing Rope, decorated with paper streamers, now dirty and flimsy from wear, but it all still served its purpose, to keep him there. Once upon a time, the great tree was a simple object capable of attracting spirits like him, giving them a physical space to occupy. But this tree already housed a Kami, and thus it had become something else. It grew like no other tree in the forest and its coiled roots were protruding out and back into the ground, forming a small nest underneath.

In the past he sometimes crawled in there, hiding from the summer's scorching sun, but lately, that dirty and muddy, moss and dead leaves smelling place, was his home. A short prayer was scratched onto one of the roots where the bark was softer, and there were more than a dozen fox statues around the tree and in between its roots, all decked in red bibs. They were all portraying a seated fox with its tail in the air looking forward. They all held a symbolic item in their muzzles or beneath a front paw — most often a jewel and a key, but a sheaf of rice, a scroll, or a fox cub was depicted, too. Despite the common characteristics, he suddenly realised that the statues were highly individual in nature; no two were quite the same.

He sighed at the realisation, or at his lack of observatory skills. He had seen those moss-eaten blocks of stone since his arrival and yet he had never paid any attention to them despite the fact that they were no longer ordinary statues. He looked at the red shrouded foxes again. They were meant to represent the messengers of Inari, the deity of food, farmers, and the rice harvest, but here he was, not delivering the message, not listening to the villagers’ prayers, destroying their lifeline with the perpetual foul weather. Thinking about the villagers made him angry somehow, but he couldn’t remember why he felt such rage and disgust towards them. Whatever grudge he had against them, it had been forgotten. With a soft sob, he crouched down next to the shrine and poked the ear of one of the statues as though he expected it to react. Instead, he felt the poke on his own elongated ear, so he shook his head and shivered at the odd sensation.

He looked away from the statue and cast his eyes on the offerings that lay there, still nicely placed between the statues. There was rice and sake to appease and please the Kitsune messenger, expecting him to plead with Inari on the worshippers’ behalf. But there was no one to plead with and the moody weather had been his fault entirely. His and his hate and sorrow and despair’s. As the years passed, the offerings became less and less, the villagers fearing the gods, but maybe not enough to present more or stop completely. They had stopped coming too deep into the forest altogether and they avoided the Kitsune shrine completely, and that was why for the past few years the place had started to be devoured by the nature. No one was cleaning it anymore or taking care of it, no one cared, and no one wanted to care. He poked another statue, his claw deepening into the wet, green moss that covered the front leg of the smaller stone fox, until he felt the touch on his own skin as though someone else was pressing a finger against his arm.

He wondered if his sorrow was related to the fact that the humans were now angry with him, their hearts fearful instead of believing. The thought made him shudder again and he shook his head as though he wanted to push the thought away with that movement. “Impossible,” he whispered, but the thought returned and he let out a small sound of distress. A thunder rolled over his head and he flinched, wrapping the drenched kimono tighter around him. He looked down at himself; the ethereal fur seemed wet, but the rain was on his skin. He couldn't tell if he was shivering because of the unsettling thoughts or because he was cold. He poked the ear of another fox statue and his own ear flicked at the touch. Reality slowly settled in again, the forest around him, the rain, the dripping sounds, the statues with their red bibs, and finally the rice and sake offerings... almost unspoiled.

Lips pursed a little, he blankly stared at the clay bottle. He could smell a scent coming from it, imprinted in and on those patterns that danced on its surface, the scent of a human. It seemed oddly familiar. He frowned confused and he reached out slowly, carefully picking up the bottle. Studying it closely his nose picked up that scent again, faint, but it was there, and every time he felt like he could remember it, the thought vanished and he was left confused and wondering. He dragged himself closer to the tree, sitting on one of the roots, the colourful kimono splayed around him like a gown, and for the first time in years, he pulled the cork out.

Bringing the bottle to his nose, he smelled its contents. “Sake,” he said softly and sniffed again. Somehow the scent made him smile and he looked at the round shaped flask, its earthly hues mixing in irregular patterns across its surface. He sniffed the rice wine again then took a small sip from it. The liquid filled his mouth, stinging his tongue for a moment, then, as he swallowed, it left a sweet and rich aftertaste behind, not a dry one as he had expected. He suddenly made a small surprised sound and blinked, confused. That familiarity of the scent and taste was now mixed with that specific something he had been missing for so long, but he could still not remember what it was. Somehow, the liquid was still warm and he quickly took another sip from it, but he did it so greedily that he choked. Coughing a few times, he looked around, startled at his own reaction, and suddenly realised that the rain had stopped. He had liked the wine with its soft stinging bitterness and fading sweetness, and that simple thing had made him forget his turmoil.

He looked up at the trees for a few moments, his eyes focused. The clouds were breaking and shy rays of sun were coming through. A smile curved his lips and he quickly gathered his garments around him again, wet and dripping. He flicked his grey, pointy ears, and pressing the sake bottle to his chest he made his way back into the clearing. Eyes cast up towards the sky, he watched the clouds parting, the blue of the sky returning, the warmth of the sun touching his ethereal fur and cold skin. A small happy sound came from him and he just slumped back into the grass, legs crossed, and smiling. Gingerly putting the flask down on the ground, eyes on it, he started to open the colourful belt around his waist.

Opening the kimono and the one underneath it, their bright colours dulled by dampness, he pulled at them restlessly, wanting them off, wanting the sun to warm him. His fingers curled into the undershirt, while his other hand pulled at the sash that held all the undergarments in place. With a huff and a grunt, he freed himself from the layers of wet cloth, and half naked he stretched his arms up, as though he wanted to catch the sun and bring it closer. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back a little, his lips curving into another smile and the sun shone brighter, warmer.

With a deep, relaxed breath he sighed, shuddered, and the soft ethereal fur on his body shimmered and raised itself. These days he did not take his human form, but neither the one of a beast. He possessed the limbs of a human, their body and face, but his features lacked anything human. His long fingers ended in claws and his body was covered in a soft, grey and ginger coloured ethereal fur, white on his chest and neck. He had a fox’s snout instead of a nose, his features elongated and contoured by darker fur that continued up the sides of his nose and around his eyes, which made them look as though outlined in dark kohl, giving them a slanted look, enhancing the blue of his eyes, like sparkling sapphires in their sockets.

The sun's warmth was getting stronger, warming up his tensed body. He fully unwrapped the drenched kimono and patiently spread all its layers onto the grass to dry off, then sat back down, sake bottle in his lap. He pulled the cork out again and took another shy sip from it. It was still warm somehow. He smiled again and studied the clay flask closely, those random patterns on its surface that meant absolutely nothing, but they now seemed so beautiful. He smiled; he could make up stories about them, just as the kids in the village were making up stories about the shapes in the clouds. The thought made him look up and blink confusedly. There it was again, that feeling that somehow he had a memory of himself as a child, playing in the woods and making up stories about the shapes in the clouds. And there was someone else with him, another kid, but somehow the more he struggled to remember, the more the image became foggier and ultimately disappeared from his mind.

He let out a frustrated sound and lowered his eyes, remaining still for a bit, allowing himself to let go of those thoughts and the frustration. He didn't want the rain again, so he ran a clawed finger over the surface of the bottle and his nose picked up the scent again, a recognition coming back to him. He brought the flask closer to his nose and inhaled deeper, once, twice, a third time, then tilted his head back and smelled the air, eyes closed. The scent was there, too, but faded as though whoever had left the bottle at the shrine was not in the village, hadn’t been for a few days. A thought started to form in his mind, so he put the bottle down and stood up, picking back up one of the kimono belts and wrapping it around his waist, covering himself. He then picked up the flask again, and holding it like it was the most precious object to him, he walked back into the forest, stopping in front of the old, gnarly tree that hosted the fox statues.

He looked at them in silence, then crouched down, touched the spoiled offering of rice, then leaned down and sniffed it. The scent again, the same one, mixed with the aroma of the stale rice, but it was there nevertheless. Another sniff and he picked up the scent on one of the statues. He brushed against the cold, wet stone as though to mimic the movement of whoever had been there, retracing their steps somehow, and he felt the touch on his own side, his skin and ethereal fur reacting, muscles softly rippling underneath them. Carefully putting the sake flask down on the ground, he stood up again and walked around the tree, sniffing the air, touching its trunk where he could smell the scent of the human. Stopping, leaning against the moss covered old tree, he looked back over his shoulder. There was a path in the grass, barely visible and easily missed, that weaved through the trees and down the hill, straight down to the village. He followed it a little, but then stopped, just looking at it winding through the forest.

He ran back to the tree, smiling, and retrieved his sake bottle, taking the bowl of rice, too, then hurried back into the clearing, near the river. Sitting down again, he lazily started to discard the rice into the water, the fish immediately swimming towards his hand, eating the rice that was being offered. Washing his hands once once there was no rice left, he looked back towards the forest. One scent, just one, not more, there was only one person who was still coming to the shrine. The thought almost saddened him, but then realisation stopped the feeling from forming.

It was true that for a while there had been fewer offerings, and he feared that soon there would be none at all. Would that affect him somehow? Would his strength diminish and would he vanish from existence once no one believed in him anymore? Usually such questions would torment him for a good while, but now he just shrugged, and instead, his senses focused again on the familiar scent. He now slowly remembered that the same scent had lingered around the shrine over the years. The villagers had been scared away by the constant rains and moody weather, so now they were avoiding the forest, turning their backs on the messenger who had failed to keep his promise, serve his purpose... except one person. He looked back at the bottle and wanted to take another sip from the sake, but he feared that in doing so he would just continue until there was nothing left. What if the person would stop coming? After all, he could tell that the scent was barely there, that he was not in the village anymore. What if he had left? What if he would never come back?

The sudden realisation made him grab the bottle and cradled it against his chest, a small sound coming from him, then his blue eyes shot to the sky, fearing the rain. Nothing happened, so the Kitsune exhaled with a relieved sigh and put the bottle down again. Then his attention turned towards the empty rice bowl, so he picked it up carefully and dipped it into the river, carefully washing it out, then left it to dry with the rest of his garments. He felt restless now, curious, eager even. Suddenly he wanted to know who the person was. Who was the one still bringing the offerings? He had slept under the roots of that old tree for years and somehow he had never seen them coming and going. Had he been so apathetic to his environment that he had blocked the image of any human that came too close? Could the human see him and came around only when he was away?

His shoulders rose in tension and he made a soft sound, his ethereal fur bristling for a moment. Maybe it was just his imagination, he thought, then shook his head. "No!" he said out loud, holding the sake bottle tighter for a moment. With another soft sound, he uncorked the flask and drank from it. And just as he thought that it had been only his imagination again, he tasted it. That now familiar scent was a taste, too. Had it been there all along? Was it just now that he could taste it? How many centuries had passed since he had last touched human food anyway? More questions that came were immediately dismissed in the favour of what he knew for certain: Whoever brought the offerings was real, still alive, and with that resolve, the Kitsune bit his lower lip, his sharp front teeth digging into his own full lip, as though that would make the taste linger a little longer.

He looked at the empty bowl again, pondering. What would the human say when he returned, seeing that the bottle was gone and the bowl empty. Would that scare him or reinforce his faith in the Kitsune? Would the human's faith in his existence make him stronger then? Could he leave then? Was this what he needed to finally ascend? Was it the person's faith that made him come back to the shrine to leave the offerings, or was it just habit? Another sound came from him, this time annoyed, and he scratched his head nervously, ruffling his hair a little. He flicked his ears as though he had picked up a sound, then sniffed and straightened his back for a second, stretching in the sun's heat. It was heat now, not just warmth. The weather was turning somehow.

The Kitsune pursed his lips a little and stood up again, picking up the empty rice bowl and walking back into the forest. Stopping at the shrine once more, he sighed deeply and placed the bowl where he had found it, only to return to the clearing a few moments later. Sitting down on the riverbank, he looked down into the now clear waters, the fish coming towards him, swimming against the current, "So?" he asked, dipping one clawed finger into the water, "What do you say? Will they come back?" He poked one of the fish, a fully grown catfish with a pair of long barbels. The fish weaved away, as though he was swimming in the direction of the village down below, then came back. The Kitsune chuckled and looked up, scanning the horizon, then smiled at the fish, "I see," he said and nodded. "Then bring the human to me."

[ To be continued ]


	2. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small village in the mountains and its pariah who still believes in the Kitsune in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to 'taetaes' (on Twitter) and based on one of her kitsune!Viktor 'Yuri on ICE' AU arts.

_"Seven generations of Kami followed, ending with their divine pair Izanagi and Izanami. They descended from the Heavens to an island in the ocean and from their union sprang the islands of Japan and all of nature."_ \- The Creation Myth

There was a shadow in the river; at first it looked like a cloud that had passed over his head and briefly darkened the waters, but there was no cloud in the sky and the shadow kept moving against the current. He peered closer, following its movement, and as he leaned over the stream he saw what it was: a shoal of fish, heading straight towards him. They all followed a catfish with two pairs of long barbels, and its beady eyes looked like they were staring right back at him. With a sound, he jumped to his feet and moved away from the shore, but the shadow in the waters followed him down the river. He had tried to ignore it, but every time he looked towards the waters, the catfish and its shoal were there, staring up at him from its depths. If he ran, they would magically appear up the river in front of him as though they wanted to corner him and send him back towards the forest. So he ran and ran and his foot caught on a stone, and the next thing he remembered was falling into the river, its usually shallow waters turning into a dark abyss that swallowed him. He sank deeper and deeper until he could breathe no more and the darkness finally took him.

With a jolt and a small cry, Yuuri sat up, mouth open, inhaling deeply a couple of times with loud wheezing sounds. He was trembling again, his breathing just as shaky, as though he was cold, and pressing his hand onto his chest, beads of sweat falling down his temples and rolling down to his chin, he tried to blink. His eyes still refused to move, his entire body numbed, and now the room was spinning, too. He could feel a headache throbbing between his temples, a pulsating rhythm in sync with his rapid heartbeats. Taking a deep breath, his fingers curled into the grey shirt he was wearing. Eyes fixed on an invisible spot somewhere in front of him, he slowly started to be aware of his surroundings, until he was able to blink and look around him. Trying to not aggravate the headache, he slowly turned his head.

"Another dream," he whispered to himself and took a deep shuddering breath. With a shaky hand, he held on to his own shirt as though that would offer him any sort of comfort, but it was only making him more aware of the state he was in. "And this one was not even that bad," he whispered and tried to chuckle to calm himself down. "Just a dream, Yuuri. Just a dream," he repeated softly a couple of times until he got tired of hearing his voice and just stopped. Sniffing, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve and lay back down on his straw bed. Staring at the hut's ceiling, Yuuri sighed; a tiny spider was making its web up there, he noticed, but then he just looked away, shielding his eyes from the morning light. He couldn't remember when the dreams had started, some time years ago, but he couldn't tell exactly when anymore. Maybe around the time when he had become the pariah of the village, he guessed.

A soft disgusted sound came from him and he couldn't tell if it was directed at himself or at the rest of the village. With a deep breath, he pushed the thought from his mind then sat up again, feeling a little calmer; at least the shakiness was gone. He turned his head and looked around the tiny room, unchanged, dusty and monotone. 'Fitting', he thought and looked towards the window. The morning light was streaming through the wooden blinds that barricaded it. "Just a dream," he said softly and breathed in deeply again, the familiar scent of his home relaxing him a little. The light was warm, and that warmth was now incredibly soothing and calming. "Just a dream," he repeated, talking quietly to himself, then briefly closed his eyes. He had barely returned from his usual trip to the next village where he could exchange the smoked meat and pelts from his hunting, sometimes fishing, too, for other things he needed, like rice. It had been another season with bad crops and while he cared little for himself, he did not want to deny his family the beloved food source. Plus, he needed the rice for the Kitsune in the woods.

With a growl, Yuuri sat up, feeling his muscles sore and his limbs heavy. Ignoring the ache, he sighed loudly and rubbed his eyes. Pushing the knitted blanket off him, he yawned and looked towards the barred window. "Sun," he whispered and crawled on all fours, still not fully awake and tired from the previous night's journey back home. Head still swimming, Yuuri reached up and opened the window, letting the sunshine stream through. A small surprised sound came from him when he felt its warmth on his skin and he slouched back down, just kneeling in front of the window. He didn't hear the steps behind him but felt the vibrations of the floorboards underneath the bamboo mats, and turning he looked over his shoulder at his older sister who was now standing in the door, a smile on her lips, "Sun, huh?" She asked and arranged the light green yukata on her shoulders. "Was about time," she added, then let herself in. She walked quietly, Yuuri noticed. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she took a step and then another. It was so unlike her, Yuuri thought, but said nothing and just watched her kneel in front of the window, too, next to him, like a demure, silly thing. He sighed a little disappointed. It meant that she was trying to set an example again, show him that change was possible or needed, the same routine, just a different day. Simply observing his sister, Yuuri clung to the windowsill like a cold-blooded reptile that needed heat to survive. Her brown hair was cut short, unusual for a woman her age, and their parents had argued that it had been the main reason why she had hit her mid 20's and still did not have a husband.

Yuuri blinked at her then smiled, "Yes, was about time," he said and sniffed then leaned back, stretching his legs. "How are mother and father?" he briefly looked away, “I haven't seen them when I came back.”  
"You came back in the middle of the night, Yuuri," Mari smiled, "they were asleep."  
"You know they weren't," he sniffed.  
She remained silent, placed a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed, "Don't think about it, Yuuri. You're still here and no one is going to drive you away."  
"They hardly can now. I'm the one providing," he chuckled.  
"You’re on quite a high horse, I see,” Mari quipped, "The inn is doing well, you know?" she smiled lightly, briefly closing her eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth, too.  
"That's because travellers don't know our family's shame," Yuuri turned his head to look at her. He couldn't help but smile, though; both Mari and he were past their marriage age, and they both were still unmarried. Probably Mari had missed her chance because of him, after all, she had had her suitors.  
Mildly nodding, Yuuri looked back towards the window, his face bathed in the sunlight, "If this keeps up, they'll throw me out," he said, going back to what she had previously mentioned. "I'm tolerated for a very small number of reasons. One is providing for the family, the other one is because I'm the only one who takes offerings to the shrine."  
"Don't be silly, little brother," Mari snorted, "no one believes in the Kitsune anymore. It is only you who blindly follows it and this," she pointed towards the window, meaning the sudden sunshine and warmth, "is the proof.  
"How is the sun the proof he doesn't exist?"  
"He?" Mari blinked confused at his choice of words.  
Yuuri made a small sound then lowered his eyes for a second, "I don't know,” he shrugged. "I'm fairly sure it's a he," he said softly, his eyes still swollen with sleep. "Anyway, how's the sun the proof?" he quickly changed the subject.  
"Well," Mari stretched a little, "did you do anything different last time you were there? I mean different than the other times?" She waited, and when Yuuri shook his head, she just chuckled. "I didn't think so," Mari continued and smirked. "So why would _*he*_ listen to you now when he has not done so in years?"  
Wrinkling his nose a little, Yuuri just sighed, "I don't know. Maybe he's awake now?"  
"What?" Mari blinked confusedly, "Wait, Yuuri... you still believe that story you told us as a kid? That you saw the Kitsune sleeping under the Great Tree?" She lowered her head and covered her mouth with her hand, hiding a smile and muffling the sound of a snort.  
"It's true!" Yuuri insisted, but then went silent. Was there any point in trying to make them believe him? The Kitsune was still there, still asleep, a sleeping beauty in colourful, expensive silks. Pondering, Yuuri ultimately shook his head, "I don't know,” he added and just sniffed, trying to ease up the pain in his shoulders; carrying two sacks of rice and other goods back home from the next village, without the help of their donkey, had been more than enough for him. "Ah!" He suddenly smiled at Mari, " Maybe he liked the the sake that I made?"  
"Yuuri," she looked at him almost shocked, "you didn't--," and then blinked again, "And why do you keep referring to it as a he?"  
"What?" Yuuri frowned a little confused at the reaction. "And I don't know. Who cares? I just feel like it is a he."  
"Alright," she drew in a deep breath, "to hell with your damn Kitsune, you wasted our best sake," she lightly scowled a little at him. "On... nothing!"  
"On a Fox. Spirit!" He pointed out and scowled back at her. "The Fox Spirit of the village, of the mountain. Just on that," he pursed his lips. "That is not nothing," he insisted, "Also, *our* best sake is made by me, so maybe I can do whatever I want for once?" He glared at her then rubbed at his eyes.  
"There are no fox spirits, there are no gods, Yuuri," Mari sighed, "I don't understand why you keep saying there is one."  
Looking away from his sister, Yuuri remained silent. His thoughts went back to that memory of his childhood and all that followed, the form of the Kitsune curled up and wrapped in his kimono, and he was beautiful and fair and noble, but so utterly sad. He had heard him weep in his slumber, not even stirring when he had brought the offerings. He felt such despair every time he was there, as though the Kitsune's sorrow was inflicted upon himself. There were so much pain and loneliness and longing, and that feeling he had had all his life that something was missing intensified tenfold every time he was at the shrine. Sometimes it was hard to walk away, and other times he would stay in the forest for days, but the Kitsune never woke from his slumber.

Glancing back at Mari, Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, but then reconsidered and just exhaled with a shuddering breath. There was no point in confessing about the Kitsune, tell her that he had seen him every time he went into the forest. She would only think he was insane and make things even worse for himself. And maybe the Kitsune didn't even exist and Mari was right, and all this was his imagination giving him something to hold on to. Maybe all his memories of the Kitsune were just his strange dreams about fish following him around and fox spirits under tree roots, something to cope with his utter loneliness and the feeling he had had all his life, that something was missing.

Those thoughts didn't last long, though. For whatever reason, Yuuri was convinced that the Kitsune was real. A few times he had wondered what would happen if he was to wake him up, maybe ask him what he wanted, really wanted, and make him happy. Yuuri blinked and pursed his lips a little, pondering. Mari was right, he did assume the Kitsune was a 'he'. Then he smiled - of course it was a he for him. He wanted the Kitsune to be a he, but Kitsunes were neither male nor female.  
"What's so funny?" Yuuri heard Mari behind him.  
"The Sky and the Earth were not yet set apart the one from the other nor were the female and male principles separated," he started citing, his voice soft.  
Mari looked at him even more confused but said nothing.  
"And the Sky was formed first and the Earth next, and later Kami were produced in the space between them," Yuuri continued, but stopped, now smiling softly. There was a long moment of silence, then he looked back at Mari, grinning a little, "Well, at least I know that you do appreciate the sake I make.  
"Are you trying to ruin the family completely?" She almost snapped but kept her voice low. "First you refuse to marry the richest woman in the village, bringing shame on her family and destroying ours, then you continue with this nonsense about the Kitsune. Yuuri--," she wanted to continue, but saw him suddenly stand up and walk away, completely ignoring her. "I'm talking to you, Yuuri," she hissed, trying really hard not to raise her voice.  
"No, you're lecturing me again about the same old thing, Mari."  
"You should have married her!" Mari argued.  
"Maybe you should have married her," Yuuri retorted, his tone bored and tired.  
"What?" Mari blinked confused, "I... I'm a woman, I don't like... women!" She sort of defended herself, but her own answer only made her more confused, not understanding why the conversation ended up the way it did.  
"Neither do I," Yuuri stated bluntly and walked out of the small room without another word.  
Mari remained silent, then her eyes slowly grew bigger as Yuuri's words began to sink in. She made a sound and tried to stand up, wanting to rush after him, but only managed to stumble and fall back down, so she crawled on all fours for a bit, then finally getting to her feet to hurry after him. "Yuuri!" she shouted, catching up to him in the next room. "You--," and she briefly stopped, not knowing what to say to him.  
"Yes, me," he threw her a glance and he lazily donned his yukata and started packing up rice and a new bottle of sake. "Stop pretending you didn't know," he sighed.  
"So...," Mari blinked confused, her heart racing, "you and Takeshi?"  
Yuuri looked up at her almost disgusted, "Friends, Mari. Friends!"  
"You never…?"  
"Really?" He asked, but seeing her stare he just looked away, "No never. He knows, but he doesn't care," Yuuri shrugged.  
"What about Kenjiro?"  
Yuuri looked at her even more confused, "What about him?"  
"He--," she started, but didn't finish.  
"He is a child, Mari. What in the world is wrong with you?"  
"Well, he looks up to you, even now, so I thought--"  
"Well, you thought wrong!"  
"Well," Mari continued, "You just suddenly blurted out that you... you…"  
"Like men, yes. Anything else?" He asked, not looking up from what he was doing, feeling as though his heart was slowly cracking, Mari's every word plucking another hole into his soul.  
"Why now?"

Yuuri heard her voice and it took him a moment to process the question. He stilled and blinked, pondering, then finally looked back at her, "Maybe because I am tired of the same story every damn day." he said," It already hurts enough. I know it is hard for you all, it is hard that I rejected the marriage, the wealth that came with it, and even worse still, I destroyed the family, broke the girl's heart and became this pariah, but it hurts me, too." he smiled bitterly, "Yes, I know. It's selfish that I think about myself when my actions reflected on all of you. I have no right to feel hurt." He sniffed, feeling his nose sting and his vision blurry; he didn't want to cry, so he drew in a deep breath, then exhaled, trying to calm down. "All I wanted was to be happy, and I swear I wanted her happy, too, but she would have been miserable with me by her side," he sniffed again, "but now I can't be happy. You all remind me that I need to suffer for my selfish choice, for who I am. Lowering his eyes, he looked down at his battered hands, "The truth is, I don't even know who I am anymore, and I do not know what else to give you all, you, mother and father, the village," he sniffed once more, feeling the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, "you took everything from me, but nothing is never enough, right? No matter what I do. " He winced as though he was in pain and picked up the canvas bag he had prepared. Standing up, he headed for the door where he put on his wooden sandals and walked out of the hut.  
"Where are you going?" Mari frowned and rushed after him, stopping at the door.  
"To buy you all more sunlight," Yuuri answered without looking at her. "Maybe that will redeem me."

Bag hanging over his shoulder, Yuuri hurried down the path that led out of the village. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, staring, and he could almost hear the whispers behind his back. He had wondered many times how could only rejecting a marriage proposal could bring such misfortune on someone. At this point, he was seen as the devil's child, and his own family was slowly turning against him. Not long now and he would have to move out completely. Maybe he could go and live in the next village for a while until somebody’s daughter wanted to marry him again and he would refuse again, and repeat this until he was broken enough to not care about what happened to him anymore.

Trying to push away that thought from his mind, Yuuri looked down at the path, still waterlogged after that morning's sudden rain, his feet and the hem of his dark blue linen yukata getting dirtier with every step. Once he reached the river, he would get rid of the mud there, just as always. 'Another village,' the thought came back to him, 'another life maybe,’ but then he frowned. ‘What about the Kitsune then. Who would take the offerings to the shrine? Were they even necessary?’ Yuuri sniffed and swallowed hard. Were spirits even hungry or thirsty? Was it worry that kept him going back to the Great Tree, or was it a habit? Or maybe it was just his desperate need to hold on to something he had known his entire life, the only good constant of his existence.

With a sigh, Yuuri briefly looked up as he walked past the wooden gate of the village, closely watched by the two men that usually served as night guards. He kept following the path, walking on the side of the river. Seeing the clear stream, he suddenly remembered the dream and stopped, intently looking at the softly swishing waters, but there was nothing there. He snorted at his own reaction, shook his head, and continued down the path. Suddenly catching a movement in the corner of his eyes and turning his head, he eyed the water again, waiting, feeling his heartbeat picking up a notch. There was a shadow in the river, so he briefly closed his eyes, hoping that when he was going to open them again, the shadow would be gone. But when he finally dared to look, instead of a single shape moving through the water, there was a shoal of fish heading right towards his side of the river.

He made a sound and stepped back, but the fish were there, all following a large catfish with two pairs of long barbels, just as he had seen it in his dream.  
"Impossible!" he shouted and wanted to look closer, but it felt so eerie that he took another step back instead, feeling even more weirded out. The shadow in the waters followed him instead, just like in the dream, down the river, trying to get as close as possible. A soft shudder ran down Yuuri's spine, the throbbing headache pulsating between his temple just like it had when he had woken up. He winced silently, closed his eyes again for a second and braced for more pain, but the ache was suddenly gone. Slowly opening his eyes, Yuuri watched the fish and realised he was feeling oddly relaxed.  
"What in the world--?" he muttered to himself, seeing the fish swimming up towards the forest then coming back, halting in front of him. "Alright," he scratched the back of his head, "so I am indeed going insane." Yuuri sighed resigned, "Lead on then," he talked to the fish in the river, still hoping he was imagining things.

The fish were still there, though, moving in unison ahead of him, not swimming away, so he looked back towards the village as though he wanted to make sure no one was seeing him or the entire scene. The last thing he needed was one of the villagers to see the fish oddly following him around; and they would bury him alive or something.  
"Where do you want me to go?" he asked softly and continued along his usual path, eyes on the water, only to see the swarm of fish still there. "Yes, this is normal," he took a deep breath, "definitely not weird at all." He sighed and once the village was out of sight, he walked off the main path.

Stepping through grass and over mucky ground until his sandals caught in the mud, he stopped and took them off, then continued barefoot. Finally, he reached the edge of the river where the waters were shallow enough to allow him to cross to the other side, so he picking up his yukata, bag on his shoulder and sandals in one hand, he stepped into the water. He felt his entire body numbing, his muscles tensing and he let out a choked sound.  
"So cooooold!" He hissed and shivered, briefly biting his lower lip, letting out small, rapid breaths through rounded lips. Once he got accustomed to the temperature, Yuuri inhaled deeply and allowed himself to look around. The river should have been muddier after the rain, but instead it was calm and clear as though nothing had happened. "Yes, indeed. This is normal," he made a soft sound and shrugged to himself, taking a careful step, feeling the round stones under his feet.

Stopping for a second, Yuuri looked to his side only to see the catfish still there, following his steps, the shoal right behind it. For a moment he almost expected them to nip at his ankles, but the fish were simply gliding in the water as though they were waiting for Yuuri to cross the river. Instantly looking away from the critters, Yuuri mumbled something to himself about impossibilities and weird dreams, then took another step, his feet sinking into mud, sand and small pebbles. Lifting his arms, balancing himself with each step, he almost slipped on the riverbed stones, slick with algae and polished by the flow of the water, so slippery that he almost fell.

Shouting, Yuuri managed to regain his balance and stood still for a couple of seconds, breathing deeply, while reassessing his surroundings. He looked around him first to make sure that no one had heard him, then caught a glimpse of the shadow in the water again, and with a small sound he hurried, trying to reach the other bank of the river. He was knee-deep into the water when the shoal of fish swam right in front of him just as he wanted to take another step. Swearing silently, he stopped, hitting the water with his leg to make the fish go away. Seeing them disperse, he was about to take another step, but the fish swam past his feet one more time, stopping him, now a shoal once more.

Exasperated, Yuuri leaned down, ready to hit the water again, but that was when he saw it, a pointy stone, and he had almost stepped right down on it. He straightened up so suddenly with the realisation of what had just happened, that he felt the urge to run back home and lock himself away somewhere safe; there was a small tremor in his chest that grew until a shout came out. For a moment he couldn't really think about anything, acting solely on impulse, and he was about to simply turn and run away but then something stopped him — curiosity maybe, for the way those cursed fish just waited for him to move. His thoughts were slow to from, and yet he had asked himself so many questions and in such a short span of time that he almost forgot how to breathe.

Suddenly letting out a small huff and feeling the heat rush to his head, he hugged the canvas bag to his chest and just started running, avoiding the pointy stone, jumping over it, avoiding looking down, and just hurrying across the river as fast as he could. When he finally reached the other bank, he collapsed to his knees, panting and looking over his shoulder at the shoal of fish. It was still there, beady eyes on him.  
"What the…," he whispered and pushed himself away from the shore, holding the bag and sandals close to his chest. "What in Heaven's name is going on?" he murmured and looked around him. "I'm dreaming. I'm still not awake," he repeated to himself a few times as he tried to stand up, "This is not real," he breathed out and half crawled, half ran up the hill, towards the forest, wanting to just hide.

He finally stopped running and hid among the first trees. Panting, he pressed his back against one of them and peeked out from behind it as though he expected to see the shoal of fish flying towards him, but there was nothing. Inhaling deeply, he looked around him, one hand pressed against his chest, trying to steady his breathing.  
"Not real," he repeated once more and looked out from behind the tree again. Before him the forest spread, a familiar sight with tall green grass, the thin trunks of young trees, the river not far off with the path that led to the village. He knew the landscape very well by now, and that familiarity made his heart stopped racing, his breathing calming down little by little, and he slowly slouched down against the tree.

One deep breath and then another one and Yuuri craned his neck, lowering his eyes, his hand instinctively reaching out, his fingers touching the grass around him. He counted a few blades, feeling their slightly rough texture, like the tongue of a cat. Sniffing, smelling the air, he turned around a little, touching the bark of the tree behind him, desperately trying to ground himself, to know that everything around him was real. Still, moments later, not being able to push the dream or what had just happened out of his mind, Yuuri opened the bag and checked its contents again: the clay bowl with freshly cooked rice wrapped in clean linen, a round flask filled with sake, fried tofu wrapped in green bamboo leaves; it was all there.

Nodding to himself, sniffing, he put everything back into the bag and looked over his shoulder again. Still nothing, so with a deep breath he finally stood up, slowly, not feeling very steady on his feet, and gazed ahead.  
"I must have imagined it," he said it out loud and nodded to himself, "it was not real," he continued and finally dared to take another step, slowly heading deeper into the forest. His heartbeat was still picking up a notch every time he remembered the dream he had woken up from and the events that had followed, but as he walked deeper into the forest, he started to feel calmer. He always felt calmer and happier in the forest.

Still, every time he remembered the dreams, he found himself quickening his step towards the destination, the adrenaline kicking in, making it hard to breathe and sending his body into a soft shudder. He had to stop a few times to try and calm down, each time humming to himself, counting and touching leaves or grass blades, looking for ripe forest fruits and eating a few, collecting some until the pockets of his yukata were full of them. He had strayed from the path he had used so many times, that sometimes it was hard to find it again, and panic was crawling through his stomach all over again. He had been born in the village, but the forest was large and the mountain big, and even rangers could easily get lost in these parts. He was a pretty good hunter, but nothing compared to the skills of some of the rangers and hunters he knew.

Finding the path again, Yuuri finally decided to just follow it; the sooner he reached the Kitsune shrine, the better. The ground was still soft, his feet sinking into the mud, but he kept looking up, afraid that it might pour down again. It had been like that for years now, the summers from his childhood were long gone: The air was constantly humid these days no matter the season. The winters, too, instead of being cold and dry, were wet with a chill that seeped into the bones and would keep one cold for what it seemed an eternity. When spring came, the air was barely any warmer with all the rain and fog that was rolling down from the mountain. Summers were offering a bit of relief, but even those were far from the dry heat and strong sun he had been used to as a child. Sighing, Yuuri looked up again, expecting to see the dark clouds rolling in, but no, the leaves were green and they were softly swishing in the gentle, warm breeze, the sun filtering through the canopy.

Finally feeling at ease, the dream and everything that had followed it that morning slowly being pushed away to the back of his mind, Yuuri moved through the trees, touching one or the other as he walked past them as though he was counting them. The soft sounds of the forest and the warmth of the air made him smile; he had missed the forest, this place felt more like home to him than the village. Maybe he should just move somewhere into the forest and forget about everything that had happened. The thought made him smile as though it had given him peace, a moment of respite from all the pain he was constantly feeling, but then he remembered his family. He loved them dearly despite how things had deteriorated, and he could never abandon them.

Lost in his thoughts, not realising he had almost reached his destination, Yuuri looked up only to be greeted by an unfamiliar sight. The soft smile wiped off his lips and his eyes were now fixed on something between the long and slender silhouettes, the familiar shape of the great trunk of the old tree that served as a shrine. Gnarly and tall, its presence governed the forest. Its roots were twisted, undulating in and out of the ground, and the fox statues with their red bibs were still there, touched only by the moss and wild ivy. He suddenly blinked confused, then quickly squinted his eyes to make sure he was not just seeing things, to ultimately let out a surprised sound.  
"Gone!" he said to himself and started running towards the tree. "It's gone!" he shouted as he stopped in front of the tree, eyes wide open, looking down between the fox statues at the empty rice bowl and the spot that had previously been occupied by the now missing sake bottle. Breathing hard, he looked around as though to check that no animal had just snatched the bottle away, but there were no such tracks and the bottle was simply not there, while the bowl had been wiped clean.  
"Gone," he whispered again and felt his heartbeat picked up speed, his head tilting back a little as his eyes turned heavenwards, to the sun that was filtering through the green leaves. "Gone," he said one more time, a whisper to the sky.

[ To be continued ]


	3. Of Men and Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The encounter: Yuuri meets the Kitsune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by one of 'taetaes' (on Twitter) kitsune!Viktor 'Yuri on ICE' AU arts.

_"When the Sky and the Earth began, there was a something in the very midst of the emptiness whose shape cannot be described. At the first, a thing like a white cloud appeared, which floated between Sky and Earth, and from it, three Kami came into being in the Sky-High-Plain."_ \- The Creation Myth

Eyes on the sake bottle in front of him, the Kitsune exhaled deeply. He was feeling mildly dizzy at this point, in a very pleasant way, he quickly realised; the sensation made him feel rather giddy if he was honest with himself. There was a strange heaviness in his limbs and a stupid smile on his lips, a soft tingle in the tip of his fingers and a mild, warm feeling inside his belly. He had managed to put his kimono back on, once it had dried out, instead of just wandering around the clearing naked, but the layers were not nicely tucked in and arranged as they had been before.

The robes kept falling off his shoulders, until he gave up pulling them back on and he just dragged the kimono around like it was a cape strapped to his body with silky belts. Lying on the grass, he poked the flask, then looked at it falling over and rolling away from him.

“It’s empty," he said to no one, then loudly sniffed, and for a second he looked mildly disappointed. "Gone," he pouted, making a small desperate sound.

'Drunk,'he thought, 'I'm drunk,' the next thought came, followed by a small chuckle as he rested his head on his arm, his face buried into the grass for a second, the tip of the grass blades poking and tickling his nose. Sniffing, he rolled onto his back, the silk and linens wrapping around his long legs, and for a moment he looked like a colourful butterfly with its wings splayed onto the grass, trying to escape its cocoon.

"Empty," he said again and he looked up at the sky. He could feel the sadness slowly crawling back in again, sucking dry the happiness he had felt, leaving him as empty just as the flask of sake he had finished all by himself. He had tasted the hands that made it only to realise that the memory of the taste made him feel nostalgic. There was a certain familiarity to that taste that he could not place; the source was the mysterious person that still brought offerings, but he could not tell if they would come back or not. If he was going to be left alone again with his thoughts, the rain would come back, and that was not something he wanted. He remained silent, for a few moments his mind blank. Then something he had not experienced in a while happened as though his senses were awakening to something. He could feel his surroundings, their neverending calmness filling him and making him close his eyes. Peace, for a second he felt at peace, the sun was so warm and pleasant, and the Kitsune exhaled deeply. He wanted it to last longer, but suddenly a strange longing made him twitch. It crawled in slowly until it took over and the peace was gone.

Panicking, he breathed out, and just as the fear wanted to take roots in his heart, he heard a mild splash. Making a small sound, he sat up straight, his light grey, long and momentarily dishevelled hair falling down over his shoulders and down his back. Turning his head, he looked towards the river, another splash catching his attention. He wanted to stand up, but his feet felt awfully heavy, and he couldn't even detangle himself from his own kimono, so he half crawled, half pushed himself towards the river; he could feel the mud seeping through the fabric, but he didn’t care, and once next to the river, he looked into the water. The catfish was there, moving against the current, briefly looking up at him, then, suddenly flicking its tail fin again and, it swam down the river towards the forest.

The Kitsune's blue eyes grew larger for a second as the realisation sank in, and he pushed himself up a little, head instantly turning towards the forest.

“They’re here?" he asked out loud even if he knew that no one was going to answer him. Instead, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply a few times, then sniffed the air. A couple of seconds later his eyes snapped open and he made a happy sound. "They're here!" he happily chuckled and pushed himself to his knees, pulled at his slightly muddied kimono, dislodging it from underneath him, and finally standing up. Taking a few steps, everything suddenly started spinning around him, and feeling like he was going to fall back to his knees, he stopped and drew in a couple of deep breaths until he could see clearly again. He lifted the folds of his kimono and hurried towards the shrine. His heart was racing, the smell of the human getting stronger now. It was the same scent, slightly musky, but with a fresh undertone to it, a little salty and... dry. And then he heard their voice, a small cry, and he hurried even more. "He," he whispered to himself and rushed past another tree and then another, eager to finally see who the man was.

He stopped only when the shrine came into view, and pausing for a second he looked around, then tiptoed behind a tree, then sniffing the air again he silently crouched down, peering from behind it. And there he was, the human, ‘his’ human. He looked scared, or maybe just surprised, and he refused to move;  he was just staring down at the fox statues as though he had become a statue himself. He heard him say 'gone' a couple of times and he leaned in a little, sniffing the air again. It was him, definitely him, the one who had brought the last offering, the one who had made the sake.

He wanted to get closer, but instead decided to remain in the safety of the tree and just observed the newcomer. He was young, younger than he had expected the person to be, and his dark hair was pulled into a small ponytail. He had deep brown eyes and round, soft features despite a slender figure hidden under the simple, dark coloured yukata he was wearing. He saw him stare again in silence, his eyes open wide and fixing the empty bowl. He finally moved away a little, bending down and picking it up, studying it closely.

“Cleaned,” he heard the young man say and watched him stare at the ground in disbelief.

Taking a small step back, Yuuri crouched down and put the bowl back. He started touching the ground, looking for tracks just as he did when he went hunting, carefully moving between the roots of the old tree. Wrinkling his nose, a little confused, he straightened up only a few moments later, a disappointed look on his face. Dropping his sandals, he carefully moved the strap of his bag over his head, putting it down on the grass. He crouched down again, but now peered between the roots of the tree, only to find nothing there.

He had expected something, someone to be there, like every time he had come to the shrine, but now there was no one sleeping there,  Straightening up, he climbed over the roots, clumsily circling the tree.

"Gone!" he shouted, constantly checking under the roots again, “gone!” he repeated, coming back to where the statues were, to look at the missing bottle and empty bowl one more time, his eyes were wide in shock or terror, or both, but his lips curved into a sudden smile as the realisation trickled into his mind. "Awake!" he shouted and started laughing, then stopped just as suddenly and whispered, “Real…”

… and the Kitsune's ears flicked, picking up his soft voice.

"Yes," he smiled from behind the tree, his eyes on Yuuri. "Real," he said softly, briefly biting his lower lip, curious about what might happen next.

Kneeling down, pulling his yukata up, Yuuri remained silent for a bit, simply trying to calm down. His offerings were missing, and the nest under the roots was empty, so the Kitsune was real; he had been right all along. He didn't know if he should feel happy or scared, excited or terrified, and even his body was confused, oscillating between numbness and shuddering. In the end, Yuuri realised that it somehow made him feel happy, so he clung to that feeling. Eyeing the bag he had brought with him, he took out the freshly cooked rice, fried tofu, and the sake bottle, and neatly placed them on the stone slab between the statues. Retrieving the empty bowl, he shoved it into the bag, realising just then that his hands were trembling, and with a small sound, he clasped them together, trying to stay still.

One deep breath, then another one, and his heart was still racing, so he tried again until he was finally able to close his eyes. Neck craned, Yuuri lifted his hands to his chest and put them together, readying himself for a prayer. The words didn't want to come, though, so he cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he started his prayer.

"Great goddess Inari," he spoke softly, his voice a little rough as though he had not used it for a while, "I thank you for the blessings and abundance I already have in my life," he continued, but now his voice faltered a little. "Let me be mindful of your presence and gifts in this world," he sniffed and paused for a second, "bless me and your messenger further with growth in strength to endure and let our homes be safe. Be blessed!" he whispered and with a sigh, Yuuri opened his eyes and looked up at the tree.

Behind the tree, the Kitsune smiled again. Head tilted to the side, his claws digging deeper into the bark, pulling a few bits off, he smiled a little wider. "He prays for me, too," he chuckled silently. He found it amusing, he was there, on earth, precisely to serve as a messenger to Inari, but the man kneeling at the shrine became that instead of him. A couple of centuries ago he would have found that insulting, now he found it endearing; a human, concerned for the wellbeing of a god, even when he was visibly disturbed and restless when realising that he was real in the first place and not just the subject of bedtime stories. Then his train of thought was interrupted by Yuuri's movements, so his eyes turned back to him, intently focussed.

Looking around, Yuuri pressed his lips together for a second; if the Kitsune was not sleeping anymore, where was he? He pondered for a bit then suddenly shuddered, imagining himself being attacked by the creature, so he frantically turned in all directions, scanning the forest, trying to spot something, anything. Instead, he was greeted by the familiar scenery, now bathed in the sunlight, a proper summer's day with the choir of cicadas buzz, the birds singing within the canopy of trees. Closing his eyes again, he listened to the song around him, feeling himself relaxing - it felt like he was a child again, not a worry in the world, calm and happy. Maybe moving somewhere into the forest would not be such a bad idea, after all, he thought and exhaled deeply.

Opening his eyes, now smiling, Yuuri looked at the fox statues: Some of them were covered in moss, some in ivy, some in both, and he realised he had neglected the shrine for too long. With new-found hope, Yuuri reached out and touched the statue closest to him, but an electric-like sensation ran through his fingers and he took his hand away, a small whine coming from him. He thought he had heard a sound coming from somewhere, a small cry of pain, so he looked around, but the forest remained still. Frowning, confused, he looked back towards the statue, almost expecting it to come to life now.

After the dream and the morning's events, he would not be surprised if the stone fox would just slowly turn its head towards him and bite off the hand that had touched it. With that thought, Yuuri gulped and slowly reached out again, index finger pointing, and very carefully poked the ear of the statue. He expected another shock, but this time nothing happened, so he poked the statue a few more times, just to make sure, while nodding and mumbling to himself.

"What is going on?" he puffed and mentally encouraged himself after a moment of simply staring at the stone fox. Slowly, he let his fingers dig into the thick moss that ran across the statue's front legs, side and half of its back.

Behind the tree, the Kitsune flicked his ear again when Yuuri touched the statuette. He had felt the same electric-like shock, so now he was gently rubbing his ear, trying to make the unpleasant sensation go away. With a small groan, he looked back at Yuuri, then realised what was going on. Panicky feelings suddenly crawled through his stomach and a small shiver ran through him.

“Impossible,” he whispered and leaned against the tree. Supposedly he was the only one who could touch the statues and feel the effect on his own body, or at least that was what he had thought until that very moment. Apparently, the human had a few aces up his sleeve.

Shifting, a tad uncomfortable, his head tilting to the side again not even aware of why he was doing that until he saw Yuuri peel a chunk of moss off the statue, neatly cleaning its neck and back, another shudder ran through him, feeling the strokes on his own skin.

“Oh, no," he breathed out, then inhaled again, realising what was happening. He curled up a little and pulled the kimono tighter around him, suddenly feeling exposed. He looked up at Yuuri, biting his lower lip for a second, ”D-don't do that.” he whispered and his claws dug deeper into the tree bark.

His voice was just a whisper however, and Yuuri couldn't hear him, so the Kitsune just watched him from his spot, how he continued to clean up the rest of the statue, and as Yuuri's hands moved over the back of the stone fox, he felt the touch against his own skin, a soft caress down his spine. His body arched and he moaned silently, curling up even more, clinging to the tree.

There was a moment when he tried to think, understand why the human could do that, but then the thought vanished as he felt a hand gently wrapping around the front of his neck then moved down a little. The touch vanished only seconds later and returned somewhere else on his body, and the Kitsune crawled closer to the tree, claws digging even deeper into its bark and the solid wood beneath. He thought about going to him and stopping him, but he couldn't move; maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe because he had not felt somebody else's touch for so long, or maybe both reasons were valid enough to make him hide behind the tree and wait, heart racing, every inch of his body reacting to those touches that were not even meant for him.

His fur briefly bristled as though the beast in him wanted to intimidate an opponent, but then he relaxed feeling the soft sensations that ran through his body. He tried to fight that pleasant dizziness again and he bared his teeth, silently growling, telling himself that he was ready and he would come out of hiding to stop Yuuri. Once again his feet refused to move, his entire body feeling like it was made of lead. Looking up, his eyes a little bleary, he saw that Yuuri had moved to another statue, a larger one, and he was now quickly pulling the ivy vines off it, smoothing the stone out with both hands as though it had fur. With a small whimper, he recoiled back behind the tree, curving and arching his back with the touches like a cat wanting its master's attention.

Another moan came from him and he pressed his hand against his mouth, muffling the sound. He could feel his heart beating even faster by the second, his breathing just a bit too hectic.

“This is not happening," he whispered to himself and felt the now familiar touch running down his chest and belly, sometimes his arms, then belly again. He looked down at himself, at his exposed skin, only to see the goosebumps forming each time he felt another stroke of his fingers. He didn't need to look at Yuuri to know what he was doing, he even knew which fox statue he was touching, but the thought vanished so quickly, and all that was left was the sensation of Yuuri's hands on him.

Slouching against the tree, mumbling something as he felt the heat spread throughout his body, he softly squirmed and shuddered, and another quiet moan came from him. He felt dizzy, dizzier than he had been feeling just a while ago from the sake he had drunk. His muscles tensed and then relaxed as the touches continued, stopping at the last moment, just when a sensation threatened to become more intense, overwhelming. He slouched even lower and he cursed for not having the will to stop the man, or himself, but then he felt the touch moving down his stomach again and he let out a deep breath, his head tilting back. His back arched again, hips jolting lightly, and a guttural, desperate moan came from him. If he would go just a little lower, just a little longer...

The Kitsune bit his lower lip, the anticipation making him softly whimper, the heat in his belly spreading and spreading until it abruptly stopped, the touches gone, too. A gasp of surprise came from him, then he let out a loud desperate sound, remaining still, splayed on the ground. Shivering, he opened his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, realising that nothing was happening anymore, the touches had stopped for good, indeed. He tried to roll onto his front, but he was still too dizzy to move. His ears picked up a sound, the swish of grass and approaching steps. He frowned, confused, and was about to sit up when a shadow leaned over him. His eyes rolled back only to meet Yuuri's, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. Neither of them moved, both just staring at each other for a while, eyes wide open, the silence stretching and stretching; it seemed that even the sound of the cicadas was getting louder and the forest was shrinking around them.

The Kitsune swallowed hard, then clumsily, hand a little shaky, he pulled at the kimono, covering one of his shoulders. He had expected a word from the human, but nothing came and he couldn't even think of anything appropriate to say, so he continued to stay silent, just staring at him and being stared at in return. His breathing slowly calmed down, but he still didn't move, and apparently, the human refused to move, too. And in that silence he started to see him, the brown eyes, with long black lashes that cast a small shadow on his cheeks, the strands of hair that were so messily framing his face — a very handsome face, he thought — and with that thought he finally moved, his head tilting to the side a little as he took in his features.

The human looked like he was in need of some proper grooming. And there were scars, one across the left side of his face, from the temple to the middle part of his cheek, one on his forehead and it continued up, disappearing into his thick hair. 'Odd places for scars,' he thought, but then he saw another one that ran from behind his right ear to the side of his neck. Something had happened, he had thought, and felt the need to ask him, but he couldn't find his voice. He almost felt like he wanted to touch those scars and his hand moved, but then he stopped himself and just curled his fingers into a fist, hiding it inside the large sleeves of the kimono.

His movement ultimately alerted the human, too, because he finally saw him kneel down, then heard him speak.

"Are you okay?" Yuuri asked and blinked at him.

With a soft moan, the Kitsune sighed and half-heartedly nodded. "Yes," he growled just as softly and attempted to sit up, the kimono falling off his shoulder again.

Remaining silent, Yuuri just watched him, straightening his back a little, sitting down on the grass instead of just kneeling. He moved out of the Kitsune's way, giving him space to sit up, but his eyes didn't leave him. He could see the ears, the claws, the tails, but somehow his brain was not fully registering those details. Instead, he realised he was focusing on the way he was moving, the details of his long neck, his long silvery hair that cascaded over his shoulders and down his back, and how his slanted sapphire eyes were making a soft clicking sound every time the creature in front of him was blinking.

Then it finally sank it, and he started noticing - or at least allowing himself to believe he was not going insane - that he was, indeed, sitting in front of a Kitsune, and with that realisation, the fact that he was finding him rather beautiful, too, he slapped himself. Growling, annoyed with himself, Yuuri just sat there, forehead leaning in his hand.

“What am I doing?" he sighed deeply, shaking his head a little.

"Are *you* okay?" he heard the Kitsune say, and Yuuri let out a small whimpering sound as though the creature's voice grated his ears.

If he was to be true to himself, he found that even the Kitsune's voice was beautiful, so with a sigh, he looked up and their eyes met again. "Yes," he nodded, then inhaled silently. He didn't know what to say, but apparently his mouth had a will of its own, so he simply continued, whispering, "You're him!" he quickly cleared his throat.

"Him?" the Kitsune replied and stretched a little, pulling the kimono over his shoulder again.

"The Kitsune."

"Noooo," the mocking answer came and he snorted, raising one brow at Yuuri. “What gave it away?"

Puffing his cheeks and sitting in an awkward silence for a while, Yuuri tried to point out the elongated ears, the tails and claws, then just leaned in, index finger up and poked the Kitsune's snout-like nose. "Where should I begin?" he enquired as though he had not just touched a creature from the tales.

Making a startled sound at the touch, the Kitsune recoiled, his eyes growing larger for a second in surprise. A human touched him, just like that, and for a second he felt rage bubbling inside him. He could have bitten his fingers off, but then he instantly remembered what he had experienced at the mercy of those hands only a few moments ago. Clearing his throat, he drew in a deep breath and straightened up a little as though he wanted to preserve the small amount of dignity he had left. “You can see me?" he asked and he blinked with that soft clicking sound.

Slowly nodding, Yuuri blinked in return, feeling a little confused, "Weeeell, yeees?"

"How?"

Making a small sound of distress, Yuuri inhaled deeply, "What do you even mean, how?" He raised his hands up as if he was surrendering. "I...," and he just pointed at the entire Kitsune before continuing, "maybe it's just the very... big... fluffy... nine... tails that look like they're going to slap me any second?" He sniffed, "Do you always greet someone doing that whip-thing with them?"

"They're not fluffy!" The Kitsune moved his tails again and looked back at them, admiring them, touching one and pulling it down onto his lap.

Snorting softly, Yuuri stared at the creature in front of him, then at the tail he was caressing as though it was a small animal. "They're very fluffy," he nodded with an expression that said he couldn't wrap his head around the previous statement.

The Kitsune blinked again, but couldn't say a word, his eyes focused on Yuuri, unable to tell if he was a danger or a blessing. He could see, really see him, and he could also affect him. With that thought, the he shook his head, dismissing everything his mind was telling him, and instead wrapped the kimono tighter around himself. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously, not sure if that was the right question.

After a small pause, dipping his head a little, Yuuri finally managed to find his words, "Yuuri," he uttered, “Katsuki.” he quickly added.

"Not that!" the Kitsune insisted. "Are you human?"

Giving the Kitsune an incredulous look, Yuuri slowly nodded, "Aaahmmm... as far as I know, yes."

"Are you sure?" he enquired and leaned in a little, unblinkingly fixing him with his blue stare, trying to find something that apparently was not there, while sniffing the air.

Another tiny sound rolled off Yuuri's lips and he leaned back a little, "As sure as a human can be about their origin, yes.” He nodded. "What do you mean 'if I'm human'?"

"Humans can't see me, so why can you see me?" the Kitsune persisted, ignoring Yuuri's question. "Your kind usually sees us either as human or animals, never... like this," he indicated to himself, "You can only see us like this if we let you, or if we can't control it."

There was a moment of silence and Yuuri sniffed loudly, "Well, maybe," he started, "maybe you let me see you?"

The Kitsune made a small sound of distress and looked down at himself again, then back at Yuuri, then back at himself one more time, "You're lying!" He pointed his finger at him, "I... don't," he shook his head, but he didn't sound very convincing.

Leaning back a bit, avoiding to be touched, Yuuri also shook his head, though much faster and quite a bit more panicked, "I'm not lying. I've always seen you like this. I don't understand what you mean?" His tone picked up a little, "And you're avoiding all my questions."

"And you're not answering mine!” the Kitsune growled at him through his teeth. Then Yuuri's words finally sank in and a pang of panic coiled inside his stomach, so he drew in a deep breath trying to calm himself, but the same fear was etched into his expression, "What do you mean, ‘you've always seen me like this’?"

"If I tell you, you promise not to hurt me or kill me?" Yuuri bargained and saw the Kitsune's expression change.

His shoulders slumped, while he lowered his hand back onto his lap, but his slanted sapphire blue eyes remained on him. "Tell me then," the Kitsune demanded, and Yuuri simply nodded.

"When you were asleep," he started, "under the shrine tree," Yuuri briefly turned and pointed towards the big tree. "You always had your nine tails and fur and... everything…,” but his words trailed off as he turned and looked back at the Kitsune, now allowing himself to study him a little closer.

The fur was not really fur, he realised; it looked like it was, but it somehow shimmered over his skin with an unearthly glow. The claws were there, too, like a continuation of his human fingers, but upon closer inspection, they were a bit like gloves that merged with his hands. The ears flicked and moved like those of an animal, but they had a translucency to them, that elongated fox snout and slanted eyes, behind which Yuuri could see the features of a man: sharper features than those of any villagers he had known, bright blue eyes staring back at him, his soft, thin lips mildly pouting. ‘Pretty,' he thought, but instead remained silent for a moment longer. He lowered his eyes and frowned confused, suddenly feeling a little angry with himself; this was the second time he thought the Kitsune was beautiful, and he couldn't really remember how many times he had looked at him, hoping for that loose sleeves to fall off his shoulder again.

Studying his expression in silence as though he could read his mind by just staring at Yuuri, the Kitsune finally sighed, trying to get the human’s attention. "You're the one who always brought the offerings," he finally said and waited for Yuuri to look at him. When their eyes met again he faintly smiled, "And I never saw you,” he sniffed the air in his direction, "but it's you," he added, "I tasted you."

"You were always asleep," Yuuri replied, but then gave him a mildly confused look. "Wait, did you just say that you... tasted me?" he blinked and drew in a deep breath, not really knowing what to make of that statement.

"Yes," the Kitsune answered calmly, "The sake."

"Ah," Yuuri nodded in understanding. "I didn’t…,” he shook his head, "just…," he nodded to himself, "I thought…," he cleared his throat, but his words got muffled as he rubbed his face trying to ease down a headache that was threatening to take over.

"You thought what?" The Kitsune blinked at him, head tilting to the side a little; he looked like a puppy that had just heard a weird sound and now was trying to make sense of it.

"No," Yuuri shook his head, "it's alright, it's nothing," he insisted and shook his head again. "But yes, I'm the one who kept bringing you the offerings," he attempted to change the subject, “though you never touched them. Well, not until today.” and he looked back at him, drawn to those clear, blue eyes.

Picking up on the human’s mild panic, the Kitsune smiled, but said nothing. He pulled the long kimono around him in silence, pondering, trying to think back to those days that he had spent sleeping. His slumber had always been a deep one, but could he have missed noticing Yuuri for so long? Looking at him, his expression softened, "When did you first see me?"

Briefly lowering his eyes, Yuuri smiled faintly, "A long time ago.” he replied and looked back up, his gaze holding the steely blue of the Kitsune’s. "At least a long time for me," he added, and seeing his expression, he continued, "I first saw you when I was a kid. My parents and a few villagers came here to leave the offerings. It was my first time coming to the Great Tree. I saw you sleeping between the roots.” Yuuri recollected. The memory brought a soft smile to his lips, "You looked the same as you look now, curled up in those silks and the tails around you like a blanket, and I had never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.” He lightly chuckled, then he realised what he had said, and looking up at the Kitsune his jaws clenched, "I mean…,” he started but he couldn't find his words and just swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to his head.

The Kitsune's mouth opened slightly and his head tilted to the side again, his ears flicking as he blinked confused, "You think I'm beautiful?"

There was a long moment of silence before the question registered and Yuuri suddenly looked up. He had expected mockery, not this, and he realised he was nodding way before he could put his thoughts into words. He pressed his lips together for a moment, then nodded again.

"Yes," he admitted and tried to look away, but a finger under his chin stopped him.

His breath caught in his throat and he remained so still that he felt his muscles ache from the tension. The Kitsune's face leaned in and their noses almost touched, and the next moment he found himself pushing himself away from him, involuntarily forced to stop only when he felt a tree behind his back. A small huff came from him and he made a sound, then looked back at the Kitsune who was calmly, if not curiously, watching him from his spot.

In that moment it all sank in, from the dream of the previous night to the Kitsune sitting in front of him, a being that should have not have existed, and he had probably angered him. 'It. No, him. It was a *him* after all. Right? So pretty, too. No! Had he just thought that again?' He made a small desperate sound and wanted to either run or find the deepest hole and hide inside it, to never come out. Were Kitsunes able to read minds? What if they were? And with that thought, Yuuri's horror grew. He shuddered and felt the panic, the tremor that came with it, the tight ache in his chest, and a few seconds later he could barely breathe.

“Not real," he whispered, trying to make it all go away, part of him wishing it to be all nothing but a dream, but the nine-tailed creature did not go away.

 Was that concern he saw in those cold eyes, or was he imagining things? The Kitsune just remained there, kneeling, head tilted to the side a little, slanted sapphire eyes focused on him, making that soft clicking sound every time he blinked.

“Not real," Yuuri whispered again and the headache finally exploded, a sickening feeling roiling inside his stomach, making him lean forward and cough dryly until he felt so dizzy that the world spun, went dark, and he collapsed onto the grass.

“Not real," he whispered as his eyes closed and everything went silent.

 

[ To be continued ]


	4. Stay Close to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor, the Kitsune, find closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by one of 'taetaes' (on Twitter) kitsune!Viktor 'Yuri on ICE' AU arts.

_"And from the Sky-High-Plain these three Kami, appearing earliest, were born without progenitors and later hid their bodies. They were Amenominakanushi, Taka-mi-musuhi-no-kami, Kami-musuhi-no-kami. These first three were called the Three-Creation-Gods."_ \- The Creation Myth

Someone was calling his name, a child, his voice so far away it almost sounded like a whisper. It was a dream, most definitely just a dream, Yuuri thought to himself, so he refused to open his eyes and just turned onto his side, burying his face under the woollen blanket. Hearing the sound of a pebble hitting the wooden planks of the window again, he silently growled. One, two, three times, and then the young voice called his name again.

“Yuuri!” Silence followed and once more a pebble hit the wood. “Wake up!" the voice persisted, more pebbles following until Yuuri realised he was not dreaming; someone was indeed outside.

Opening his eyes with a soft moan, he remained still for a bit, blinking and trying to get accustomed to the darkness. The sound of another pebble finally caught his attention.

“Yuuri!” the voice of the child came from outside his window.

With a quiet, happy gasp as he realised what was happening, he sat up straight, a big smile on his face. He silently giggled, then crawled from under the blanket and looked around, making sure that no one heard him. He cracked the window open, just a little, enough to not make it squeak, then peered outside, lifting himself up onto his toes; he was still not tall enough to fully reach the windowsill. 'Too small for his age,’ he thought about what his parents had said so many times now.

He finally managed to lift himself up a little, enough to look out of the window, and there, right under it, someone waited. Another kid, around his own age, but very different from him. Instead of the typical dark hair, he had silvery hair as though to match his sparkling, sapphire blue eyes. But those were not the features that made him special **:** the pointy ears and the nine fox tails were the things that marked him out as not human. He was about to throw another pebble when he finally saw his friend looking down at him.

“Yuuri!” he giggled and ran closer, his eyes wide and happy. "You're awake," he whispered and pinned a chin-length strand of hair behind one of his slightly pointed ears. "Finally. I've almost run out of pebbles," he giggled again, reaching out and showing him his hand that held three more pebbles. He wasn’t wearing a simple yukata like Yuuri, but instead, he had an expensive silk kimono on, shimmering in white and ivory, trimmed with silver thread.

"Come out," he whispered and saw Yuuri grinning back and nodding at him.

"Wait for me," the answer came right away. He was about to close the window, but then looked back at his friend. "Psssst!” he made a sound, “Your tails are showing again," he tried to whisper, but it came out as a hiss, his tiny index finger pointing at the other kid's fox tails.

The silver-haired kid made a small sound of surprise and looked back at his own fox tails, nine of them, whipping the air from side to side as though they had a life of their own. He remained quiet for a bit, then looked back at Yuuri and just grinned so stupidly that it made him chuckle in return.

"No one's awake to see me anyway," he shrugged, pouting for a second before looking up at the sky, at the full moon that was gracing the Heavens. He sniffed and pointed towards the wood fence around Yuuri's house, "I'll wait for you outside," and with a nod, he ran away.

Snorting to himself, Yuuri watched him as he sneaked around the house and then crawled under the fence, disappearing on the other side, no consideration for his expensive attire whatsoever. That tiny kimono could have fetched a price that fed an entire family for at least a month.

Looking over his shoulder, Yuuri smiled, crawling on his all fours out of the room. Grabbing his sandals, he silently walked into the next one, briefly stopping in front of the fireplace that heated up the house. His small hands skilfully wrapped a piece of fried tofu in bamboo leaves, then shoved it into one of the pockets of his dusty-blue yukata. With a grin on his face, he looked at the open window in front of him. His family was still asleep, in fact, the entire village was still asleep, and they would continue to be for many hours; it was barely around midnight. That was when his friend, the Kitsune, would come out.

Moving to the window, Yuuri silently pushed a crate in front of it, then climbed onto it. With a small huff, he pulled himself up onto the windowsill, shuffled over and jumped down, landing outside, rolling through the tall grass. He looked up from the weeds and listened for a moment, but he could hear only the crickets in the grass. Nodding **,** satisfied with himself, he ran around the house, following the path the Kitsune had taken only moments ago. He reached the fence and found the spot where a hole had been dug under it which allowed him to sneak out. He crawled under the fence and ran up towards the hill and the forest. There, between the trees, the sapphire blue-eyed kid was waiting for him, a big smile on his lips that showed a gap in his front teeth. Seeing Yuuri, he happily waved, then beckoned him as though he wanted him to run faster. 

"Viktor!" Yuuri called out and the other kid came running down the hill towards him. "Look!" he suddenly stopped as they met midway on the mild slope. He grinned back at Viktor, showing his own gap, one front tooth missing. A small gasp of surprise came from the Kitsune and he immediately chuckled.

"When?" he asked and just took Yuuri's hand in his, making him follow him through the tall trees, going deeper into the forest.

"Yesterday," Yuuri giggled. "Mari was chasing me through the inn and I fell and hit a pole and then the tooth came off, and my nose was bleeding and there was blood on everything and Mari started crying, and we had guests and they were laughing and my parents got so mad that we disturbed them and, and...," he enthusiastically told the entire story in one breath. "They forbade me to go out and play with the kids," Yuuri proudly announced. 

Hearing him, Viktor stopped walking and turned towards him, his sky-blue eyes focused on him. He looked at Yuuri for a while, with a concerned expression on his face as though for a moment he had turned from a careless child into a worried adult. Yuuri watched the change almost mesmerised. It had happened before, a few times now, that the kid in front of him seemed to turn older. Sometimes his words were not that of a kid, but of an old, wise man; it reminded Yuuri of his grandfather. The first time that change had happened was when Yuuri had fallen into the river and almost drowned. When he had woken up, he had seen the face of an adult hovering above him, beckoning him back to life, but when he blinked the blur away, the face was that of the Viktor he knew, a child like him.

But Viktor was not a normal kid. In fact, Viktor was not even his real name, that much Yuuri knew. Viktor had no name at all because he was the fox spirit of the forest, the Kitsune, so he could take any shape he wanted and names were not really a done thing. Sometimes Yuuri had seen him as a fox, too, but the creature would still not blend in with the rest of animals of the forest; the nine tails gave away his true nature. Mostly, Yuuri had seen him as he was seeing him now, just a child of his own age, missing his baby teeth. If anyone from the village found out about them, it would spell trouble, so sneaking out in the middle of the night and playing with his only friend was enough for Yuuri. Viktor did not bully him, Viktor did not ask why he was not tall enough, quick enough, or responsible enough. Viktor was a kid, just like him, a kid that liked summer nights and fireflies and loved fried tofu and honey.

A poke made Yuuri blink and he was pulled out of his thoughts. Looking at Viktor with bleary eyes, he made a small sound as though he had just been woken up, "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if you're okay," Viktor smiled and continued to study Yuuri's face. Seeing no sign of other damage, he giggled, took Yuuri's hand in his again, and pulled him after him. "You never play with the other kids anyway," he briefly looked at him as the two walked hand in hand, two kids, cocooned by the forest and the night around them.

Hearing Viktor, Yuuri just nodded happily, "I don't. Because they're always mean to me," he lowered his eyes for a second, looking at his feet. "But you're not," he added, his voice soft, then he remained silent for a little longer. "So I brought you something," he suddenly looked at Viktor, shoved one hand into his pocket, pulling out the bamboo wrapped fried tofu, "I know you love it."

Lowering his eyes, Viktor looked at the small wrap, sniffed the air, then made a small sound of surprise. He just grabbed the wrap from Yuuri's hand and briefly raised it over his head as though he was holding a trophy.

"Tofu!" He happily started laughing, then looked back at Yuuri, "You spoil me.” He pursed his lips a little and hurried to open the wrap, biting from the fried tofu, making tiny sounds of delight as he chewed and swallowed.

"Why do you like it so much?" Yuuri finally asked after a few of seconds of silence of just watching Viktor eat.

"I don't know. I’ve always liked it," he shrugged, not even looking up from his food.

Chuckling, Yuuri remained quiet and just took Viktor's other hand, dragging him after him, walking with him deeper into the forest.

"Are my tails still showing?" Viktor suddenly asked, licking his fingers as he had finished the tofu, skipping every now and again at Yuuri's side.

"Yes," Yuuri confirmed, looking over his shoulder at Viktor's tails. "And your ears," he added, "and teeth," he chortled and showed his own teeth again, Viktor immediately doing the same in return, so they ended up spending a few moments just baring their teeth at each other between more giggles and feigned aggressive growls.

"Say, Yuuri," Viktor sniffed when they finally stopped, his eyes cast, his expression turning instantly sad. "Are you going to leave me?"

Coming to a standstill, Yuuri looked at him a little confused. He shook his head and sniffed, "No. Why would you ask that?" He pursed his tiny lips a little. "You know I'll never, ever leave you, Viktor," he nodded and smiled and their eyes met, and Viktor was already crying, but then he smiled and leaned his forehead against Yuuri's shoulder without another word.

'They all leave in the end', he thought, and his fur bristled as ache shot through him.

"Viktor, what's wrong? Viktor!"

"Nothing," the voice came, but it was a different one now, not one of a child, but one of a man.

Yuuri blinked the memory away, his eyes focusing on the man in his arms. Viktor was so fair, so, so very beautiful, Yuuri thought as he looked at him, running his fingers through his long silvery hair. ‘Viktor,' he thought, ‘my Viktor,’ the man that was not even human. Viktor, with his soft pale skin and bright blue eyes and that long hair cascading down his shoulders and lean, long, beautiful arms. He had touched his skin so many times and kissed those lips even more times, but he could still not get enough of him. He reached out and took Viktor's hand in his embracing him.

“You always say that," Yuuri wrapped his arms around him, moulding his naked body against Viktor's. "I know you by now. Why do you keep saying it's nothing when you look like the world is coming to and end?" he lightly chuckled and kissed Viktor's shoulder.

Yuuri heard him chuckle, too, and feeling him turn into his arms seconds later, they faced each other. He leaned in and gingerly cupped Viktor's cheek in his hand and kissed his lips, so softly that he could feel the mild static shock that made both of them shudder and then laugh.

"Are you going to marry her?" Viktor asked.

"No!" Yuuri immediately answered, shaking his head firmly. "No," he persisted. "I told you I won't. There's no need for me to marry her. And I don't love her," he smiled at him, "I love you, remember?" His expression changed, softening, and he caressed Viktor's cheek again, a gentle smile on his lips.

"But marriages are not done out of love," Viktor insisted, his long-lashed eyes looking up at him.

"Ours is," Yuuri answered and lifted his hand a little, showing Viktor the thin thread of braided red silk that was wrapped around his own wrist. "See?" he smiled and took Viktor's hand, looking at the same braided red silk around his wrist. "We promised ourselves to each other," he added and kissed him again, "now and forever. It's just us now."

Responding to the kiss, Viktor remained silent for a little longer, then nodded and drew in a deep breath.“Yes,” he finally replied and inhaled deeply, "I believe you," but still his eyes remained sad, and that ache he had felt his entire life clutched at his heart again. He curled up against Yuuri's chest as though he wanted to hide inside him, so he stilled, clinging to him. "Are you going to leave me?" he finally asked, his voice a whisper.

"You know I'll never, ever leave you, Viktor," Yuuri immediately answered and nodded.

He smiled fondly at him, lovingly, and their eyes met again; and Viktor's eyes were clouded by tears, so he just forced himself to smile back at Yuuri, the man he loved. He leaned his forehead against his shoulder without a word. 'They all leave in the end,’ he thought, and goosebumps ran across his skin, making his aetherial fur bristle as ache shot through him.

"Viktor, what's wrong? Viktor!" Yuuri asked, but no answer came.

"Viktor!" Yuuri moaned and slowly tried to open his eyes, but couldn't fully, the sun instantly blinding him. He tried to roll onto his side and shield his eyes, but he felt too stiff to move. He remained still for a bit longer, taking in the sounds around him. He could hear the cicadas now. He had not heard the cicadas in summer for ages. 'How many years now?' he asked himself and silently moaned again. 'Almost my entire life... or?' he strained to remember. He blinked again trying to think, but it felt like his mind was blank. Or maybe too many things were colliding. It felt like somehow there had been memories missing and they were coming back now. Where was he anyway? He pondered for a while, then with a sigh he remembered. In the forest, to leave the offerings for the Kitsune and then... then...

He suddenly sat up with a jolt and a small cry, eyes wide open. The Kitsune was real! He looked around him and when he turned his head, he saw him. The Kitsune, head turned towards him, too, his expression calm, relaxed even, but somehow sad. But he was not a Kitsune anymore, he was a man, fair and slender and so beautiful even in his sadness. His blue eyes were glassy and red-rimmed from tears, and he looked like he was scared of him. His shoulders were hidden mostly by his long hair rather than the layers of his colourful kimono. His beast features were gone, the only indication that the man next to him was not human were the nine tails whipping the air. The claws were gone, the pointy ears and the fox snout, too. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't form words, not when he realised that he knew him, that he had known him his entire life.

The dreams he had had all along the years were not a dreams at all, but memories, and he could recall everything now, from the day he had first seen the Kitsune under the roots of the Big Tree to the day he had shown himself to Yuuri with the face of a child. That was how they had met. Yuuri’s curiosity had woken up the creature after centuries of slumber and a couple of days later, the Kitsune had come to him with a face that Yuuri would accept; slowly they had become friends.

They had stayed together, grew up together, helping each other in a world that would have rejected them both. And then the day Yuuri had learned the truth came. He had remembered Viktor confessing what he had done to be able to meet him. He had remembered how Viktor thought that he would leave, but by that point, Yuuri had figured it out by himself, but gave the Kitsune the choice to tell him or not; it had mattered little to him what ‘he had done’. What Viktor had done was to give him a friend throughout his entire childhood and guided him later on in a life, never ever doubting him or losing faith in him, never giving up on him. He had loved that about him, his loyalty, his strength, his wisdom, and then he had loved him more; he had fallen in love with him, too. They had both confessed and with that burden lifted, they had planned for the future, a future together as lovers.

A deep sigh came from Yuuri as he remembered those days, those vows and everything they meant. That emptiness in his mind and soul slowly started to fill with memories of them, hazy and painful and so, so very beautiful. He understood now, understood what he had been feeling for so long now, that he was missing something, someone. For the first time in his life, it suddenly became clear; he had been missing Viktor and everything they had shared.

"I know you", Yuuri whispered and blinked as the realisation settled. He turned his head towards the Kitsune and blinked lazily as though he was in a trance. "Viktor," he dared to say his name out loud, the name he had given him when they were children. There was a small tremor in his body and his eyes were filling with tears and he didn’t know how to stop them. He felt overwhelmed like he would choke any second, and a sudden pain shot through him. "What's going on?" he tried to breathe, his hand clutching to his chest, desperately trying to stop the pain that spread through him.

"You're remembering," Viktor finally spoke, his eyes bleary, his expression tired. He averted his gaze and just sighed, knowing what Yuuri was going through. He had felt the same way when the memories had come back to him. He felt so weak and exposed, but blissful, too. At last he had understood the longing, his curiosity for 'the human who had been leaving the offerings', why he had picked up his scent of all the humans in the world.

"Viktor...," Yuuri repeated, feeling his heart beating so fast that it hurt.

"Yes," the Kitsune replied and smiled a little. "That's what you used to call me," he tried to smile again, but couldn't. "I am a Kitsune, indeed, and I do not have a name, but you gave me a name all those years ago,” he sniffed silently, his eyes turning to Yuuri now. "Do you remember, Yuuri?"

Curled up on his side, Yuuri made a pained sound but nodded. Yes. He could remember that moment and be looked up at Viktor who was kneeling next to him, unable to help him.

"Back then you said that it was a foreign name. You said that once a traveller came to your village and stayed at your family's inn," Viktor smiled fondly. "You told me about his wild stories of a place called Europe, and you said that he was tall and pretty, but—”

"Not as pretty as you," Yuuri cut him off, a broken chuckle coming from him, followed by a dry cough.

"Yes," Viktor nodded and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, silently sniffing away more tears that were threatening to fall. "You said his name meant 'victory' and I liked that, so you decided to call me Viktor from that day on and I accepted it gladly," he continued, his voice soft and sad, longing and sorrow tinging it as he spoke those words. "Do you remember now, Yuuri?" he repeated the question and those blue eyes held Yuuri's gaze, silently demanding an answer.

"Yes," Yuuri managed to say, but it sounded more like a strangled noise than anything else. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him, yet he couldn't even move. 'Would Viktor even allow it? Not now, not like this,’ he thought. His mind struggled and all he wanted to do was to scream, maybe like that the pain would stop.

He felt too many feelings piling up, too fast, and the only way to let them out was to scream, kick and scream and then maybe collapse under their burden.

"How could I forget this?" his voice broke as he spoke, the fear creeping in. "No, I could not have forgotten this," he whispered and looked up at Viktor, crawling closer to him. "You did something! Didn’t you?" he wrinkled his nose, grimacing, anger and desperation etched in equal measure into his features. "I couldn't forget this. I couldn't forget us," he almost shouted.

He sat up with a growl and pulled up the sleeve of his yukata, showing Viktor his wrist. "See!" he exclaimed, but immediately realised that there was no red silk thread around his wrist.

He suddenly felt disarmed and confused. He could have sworn he had it, a braided red silk bracelet, a promise to always love Viktor and never leave his side. He let out a small surprised gasp and his nose wrinkled again as he tried to hold back anger and tears.

"It's not there anymore," Viktor replied calmly, but he felt guilty now. He pulled at one of his own sleeves and showed Yuuri his own wrist; two braided red silk bracelets were wrapped around it.

"You took it?" Yuuri stared at the bracelets then back at Viktor with a confused expression.

"I did," Viktor nodded. "But I took more than that," he added and swallowed hard, craning his neck, his hair falling over his face, half hiding it behind those long strands.

“My memories…,” Yuuri whispered and leaned back a little as though he wanted to get away from him.

“Yes,” Viktor nodded and sighed deeply, guilt clutching at his heart again.

"You had no right to do that, Viktor. I loved you! Why would you do that?!" Yuuri shouted, feeling those tears ready to fall.

"I didn't know what else to do!" Viktor answered and when he looked up at Yuuri, he had tears in his eyes once again. "You might not remember now, but you will. Give it a bit of time," he sniffed. "You just wait and you’ll…,” he gulped, unable to continue. “They…,” and he stopped, feeling his throat closing and a second later he could not articulate a single word.

"They what?" Yuuri demanded."Who?"

"Your... humans!" Viktor shouted, now feeling the anger bubbling inside him, but then Yuuri's eyes made him look away again. He remained silent for a while, then drew in a deep breath, "They almost killed you, Yuuri. That night," he swallowed hard, his fingers nervously pulling at the silk bracelets. "That night when we wed, you went back home. That day you had refused the marriage," he bitterly smiled. "You wanted to go back to take a few of your belongings and come back to me," he continued, "so we could be together. Forever, just as we had promised. But she didn't like your answer. She felt betrayed even if you never loved her. Her brothers came after you…,” his words trailed again and he dared to look up at him.

Yuuri was not looking at him, though, his brown eyes open wide and fixed on an imaginary spot somewhere, more like looking through him than at him. He made no sound and he looked like he was struggling to breathe, his lips parted a little with each intake of air. 'His lips,’ Viktor thought — he had missed kissing them, but when he caught himself thinking that, he quickly looked away, feeling the pang of guilt again. There was a long moment of silence as Viktor waited for a reaction from Yuuri, as though he could read his mind, but nothing happened. He gazed back at him, his eyes worried. Yuuri’s ponytail had opened, and his shoulder-length dark hair was framing his face. A few strands of hair were sticking to his cheeks, damp with sweat and tears. He could tell that Yuuri was now remembering, too.

"They did," Yuuri suddenly nervously laughed, the sound making Viktor faintly flinch. He looked at Yuuri as he touched his own face where the scars were. "They almost killed me," he added and slowly turned his head towards Viktor.

"I know," the answer came together with a sigh. "I smelled your blood," he swallowed hard, the memory causing him more pain. "Your blood was spilling, and when I realised what was happening, I went down into the village and I… ,” he stopped for a second and gulped.

"You killed them," Yuuri added, his voice suddenly low.

"You remember?!" Viktor's eyes shot open, tears still blurring their shimmering blue.

"No," he shook his head. "I think I was on my way out by that point," he somehow found the strength to chuckle, "I remember being punched in the face and then dragged somewhere. I remember a few villagers seeing us, but no one saying a thing, no one stopping them," he sniffed. "I fought them for a while, but they were too many, and then I remember red and then darkness and…,” he drew in a deep breath, "I woke up in the forest.” He looked at Viktor with a new-found hope, "You saved me," and as the words came, he felt the anger suddenly dissolving, and all he had missed, all he was feeling for him, was returning, renewed and revived.

His shoulders slouched and a deep sigh came from him as he slumped down a little, but feeling more relaxed despite being exhausted. He smiled at Viktor and another soft chuckle rolled off his lips.

"That smile," Viktor finally spoke again, feeling his heart breaking, "you always smiled at me that way.” He leaned in a little, wanting Yuuri closer, but stopped at the last second, not daring to touch him. He could not. He had no right, not after what he had done to him, to both of them. He looked away, sadness in his eyes, but suddenly felt a hand gingerly cupping his cheek, and when he looked up, Yuuri was there, with his soft smile and kind eyes.

"Yuuri," he whispered, but before he could say another word, his lips were sealed with a tender kiss.

A surprised moan came from him and for a moment he felt dizzy. Heat moved through him, and briefly he was desperately clinging to him. He let out a small muffled sob when he felt arms wrapping around him.

“I’m so sorry," he breathed out, breaking the kiss, "forgive me. I didn't know what else to do. I wanted you safe, alive, I…,” but he only saw Yuuri shaking his head at him, so he wrapped his own arms around him, not wanting to let go.

"I have nothing to forgive, Viktor," he answered and nodded at him. "I understand now," and then remained silent, pondering. "Though," he eyed Viktor again, "I need to know why you did it. You could have just kept me here with you without taking my memories of you away," he smiled a little, then briefly looked away.

"I thought about that, but…,” Viktor sniffed, "your family. You love them, you’ve always loved them so much, Yuuri," he emphasised, caressing his cheek in return. "You've always wanted them safe. Happy. And without you, they would have been dead by now. I could not make that choice for you, but I could make that choice for me," Viktor answered and leaned his cheek into Yuuri's hand. “I had to let you go.”

“And you storming into the village, saving me, you spared all of us," Yuuri sighed deeply, the missing pieces of his life finally coming together. “It all makes sense now," he chuckled silently, "everything makes sense now. Why no one was talking to me anymore, but no one dared expelling me from the village, either. Why my family slowly drifted away from me, why they stopped pressing the matter of marriage and let it go so easily, why I was not actually executed," snorting, his eyes remained on Viktor, "and why they silently let me keep bringing you the offerings," he finally added. "To placate the god that they had angered," he smiled, "I was favoured.” Leaning in and kissing Viktor again, the longing made him pull him closer.

Breaking the kiss with a smile, Viktor nodded at him, silently confirming Yuuri’s words. He craned his neck a little and tilted his head to the side so that his cheek was resting in Yuuri's hand. Briefly closing his eyes, he nodded again.

“Yes,” he sniffed, "they feared that I would kill them as I have killed those men back then," and saying that, he opened his eyes and looked at Yuuri, but there was no change in his expression. "I thought you would be mad at me for killing them.” Seeing Yuuri just shrug and shake his head, Viktor smiled, "When you left, I felt so lonely that in my rage and sorrow I made myself forget, too. I wanted to forget you.” He sniffed again. "I thought it would be easier that way, that I would go on like nothing had happened," he added, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes and the familiar tickling in his nose. "Instead it left me emptier. Suddenly I was missing something and I didn't know what and why I was feeling like that. Then that void was filled with anger for the people in the village. Without the memories, I didn't understand why I was here. I had my ninth tail, I should have ascended, but no. I was here and I felt trapped," he gulped. "In my anger, I punished everyone, including myself, so the rain came over and over again, never ending, drowning everything."

"You did that?" Yuuri's eyes opened wide, and for a second Viktor thought that he was going to slap him, but then a chuckle came from Yuuri.“You really scared them for good," he snorted and he leaned in, kissing him again. "And?" he asked, now eager to hear about everything that had happened.

"And nothing," Viktor shrugged, feeling a little disappointed with himself, "I slept. I slept for years and years, slumber after slumber to forget myself. Until this morning when something made me drink the sake you brought," and thinking about it, he smiled a little, "and that emptiness faded somehow and I suddenly wanted to meet you, know you. You made me curious like you had made me curious back then when you woke me up as a child. Little did I know that it was all because of you in the first place.” Viktor lightly chuckled.

"And the sun began to shine,” Yuuri added softly, briefly looking up, putting the puzzle pieces together. "You forgot your sorrow and," he looked up at the sky again, "it's still shining."

"You're here, aren't you?" Viktor chuckled lightly. "There is no need for rain anymore."

"Sometimes, for the rice," Yuuri laughed and heard Viktor laugh with him. He felt an ache in his chest, but it was a different one, not a longing, but simply the inability to cope with what he was feeling. He swore he had missed his laughter, and seeing Viktor, seeing him happy. “Viktor,” he suddenly said and leaned his forehead against his.

"Yuuri," Viktor answered and smiled, but then his eyes lowered. "Are you going to leave me?" he asked, his eyes worried as he met Yuuri's gaze again.

With a hint of recognition, remembering all those times when Viktor had asked him the same thing as though he had known somehow that things would turn sour for them, Yuuri smiled and shook his head. "No," he said in a voice soft. "You know I’m never, ever going to leave you, Viktor.”

Straightening up a little, Yuuri let go of him, but not before caressing his cheek again, like an unspoken promise that he would indeed stay. He reached out and untied one of the silk bracelets from around Viktor’s wrist, holding it in his hand for a moment before he put it back around his own wrist.

"I think this belongs to me," he looked up. Their gazes met again and Viktor's eyes were shimmering with tears once more, but for once they were happy tears.

He frowned confused, almost panicked and cupped Viktor's cheeks in his hands, "What's wrong?" He tilted his head to the side a little and gazed at him.

There was a moment of silence, then a chuckle rolled off Viktor's lips. "Nothing," he answered and smiled, "I'm... happy.” Sniffing and wrapping his arms around Yuuri's shoulders, he dragged him into a hug. "I'm happy again," he nodded to himself.

Shifting a little, Yuuri hugged him back, burying his face in the nook of his neck for a second. "Say, Viktor...," he whispered and he felt him move in his arms.

"What?" his muffled voice reached Yuuri's ears.

"Forever?"

Silence, then Viktor happily laughed. "Forever," he replied and hugged him a little tighter. "We promised so."

"We did, didn't we?" Yuuri nodded, breathing him in, holding him closer still. ‘Forever,' he thought and smiled, and for the first time in years he felt the sorrow lifting; things were going to be alright. Forever.

 

**[ The End ]**


End file.
